by Annie Seaton
Paris, Rome, New York, he’d said. And she trusted him.
“No, he is helping me set up a show of my work.”
Papa frowned. “Why would he want to do that? Who would look at them?”
Support came from an unexpected quarter. “Gia’s work is okay, Papa.” Gabriel spoke slowly. “It will be good for her.”
“Pah.” Papa dismissed his son’s words. “She doesn’t need that. What she needs is a husband and a home in the village. Forget all about this art nonsense.” He turned to Gia and patted her hand. “You’ll grow out of it, bella, and you’ll find a husband soon. Don’t you worry about that.”
Heat filled Gia’s cheeks, and she bit the side of her cheek to stop the angry words flowing. The last thing she was worried about was a husband, but she didn’t want to create a scene, especially with Nic coming to the family lunch tomorrow.
Ignoring Papa, she reached out and lightly touched Gabriel’s arm. “Thank you.”
She was rewarded with an encouraging smile from her usually impatient brother.
…
Gia smoothed down the plain, white T-shirt she had put on with her jeans to wear to lunch at home. Her colorful clothes stayed in the cupboard. Being with Nic every day and night made her newfound confidence flourish. His faith in her work and the enjoyment he took in her company made her feel good about herself. But her self-confidence had taken a pummeling at the hands of her father last night.
She and Nic had slept in after a late night, and he had gone back to the villa for the first time in a few days, to get some more clothes and to make some business calls. Gia wondered why he would be making business calls while he was on vacation but soon forgot about that in her nervousness. She was hesitant about taking Nic to meet the family, even though he’d already met Papa and Gabriel, and they were expecting him.
Walking across to the window, she looked down the valley. It was a brilliant day and she knew that Mamma would have the table set up outside. The family home was at the other side of the village and overlooked the lavender fields. At least if they were outside, it wouldn’t be so difficult if there was an awkward lull in the conversation. She grinned ruefully—there would be little fear of that with her noisy family.
Why am I so worried about the family liking Nic? He would be gone soon, and their time together would be over. He’d hinted at seeing her when he went back to work, but she didn’t let herself hope for one moment that he would really follow through when he went home.
She gave herself a mental shake. He was coming down to Castellina for the next two weekends and then for the show. He believed in her. She must trust him. Taking a deep breath, she let assurance fill her. If Nic said he would come, he would.
The low purr of his little sports car came up the winding road, and Gia hurried across to the door, casting a longing glance at her easel. She would much prefer to spend the afternoon painting with Nic, but she couldn’t miss two lunches in a row. Mamma would have her moving back home, and Gia couldn’t think of anything she’d hate more.
A deep breath and she closed the door behind her as Nic vaulted the fence and hurried across the courtyard.
“There is a gate, you know.” Her voice was dry but she smiled at him. Nic had dressed up for the occasion. He wore a pale-blue collared shirt and dark jeans. She looked down at her plain clothes. She couldn’t carry off flamboyant colors at a family lunch. She preferred to fade into the background. Mamma had called to let her know that the cousins were coming over from Montepulciano, and she hoped it wasn’t only because she was bringing Nic to lunch.
This could be a very awkward afternoon. Why the hell did I invite him?
“Yes”—Nic caught her in his arms and planted a hard kiss on her mouth—“but I like to impress a pretty woman.” He placed his finger beneath her chin and tipped her head up. “What’s with the frown and the black and white clothes? Where’s my colorful artist gone?”
“Oh, Nic, I am so nervous about this lunch.” He was such a kind and thoughtful guy. That’s why she had invited him to come along. All would be well. It would.
“Why? It’s your family? Would you rather go alone?”
“Oh no. I want you to meet them and I want you to tell Papa all about the plans for my show. He was less than enthusiastic when I mentioned it…but you know what? For the first time in twenty-five years, Gabriel actually supported me. I nearly fainted.” She laughed. “If I had, Papa would have blamed the Limoncello!”
Nic frowned. “Why?”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll see what I mean at lunch.”
…
Nic held the gate open for Gia as she stepped through the rose-covered arch at the front of her family home. Fat pink roses spilled down in profusion on both sides of the latticed timber. A small east-facing courtyard was shaded from the sun, and the overpowering fragrance of lavender drifted on the light breeze. She slowed her pace in front of him, and Nic noticed her straighten her shoulders and take a deep breath. He was getting to know her little mannerisms very well. Although why she’d be so nervous with her own family, he found hard to understand. He was envious of the close family relationship they seemed to have.
“Come on, let’s get this over with.” She slipped her hand through his elbow, and a smile appeared on her face. But it wasn’t the impulsive smile he’d seen all week.
He was looking forward to seeing her with her family. He would support her and try to bolster her confidence, and he was certainly going to talk up her talent. Whether it made a difference or not to them…time would tell. He had no doubt it would make a difference where it mattered.
The noise of a dozen or more people speaking at once met them as they walked through the narrow stonewalled courtyard at the side of the old house. Gia slowed as they stepped onto the smooth green lawn and Nic put his hand on her back. She turned and gave him a sweet smile.
“Thank you,” she whispered, obviously feeling the support he was trying his best to give her. Nic frowned; it was such a shame if what Gia said about her family was true. Maybe she was oversensitive? Although he had heard her father dismiss her landscapes as unimportant. Why couldn’t her family see the person he saw? And support her? She was a confident, talented artist. It reminded him of the way his father looked down on him. He was a successful businessman, so why did his father dismiss every success he had and praise Antonio to the skies?
Nic understood. He loved his work at Carrara, overseeing the mining of the marble that was sold all over the world. Providing the marble for the creation of beautiful environments satisfied his creative needs. Being with Gia this week had been a wakeup call for him. Unexpectedly, watching Gia paint had satisfied his creative urge, and despite his intentions he didn’t care if he painted or not. He also hadn’t thought about the quarry or the contracts or his share prices.
Nic could admit to himself that yes, he could paint and, yes he had talent, but he didn’t have the passion she did. Seeing the emotion that she invested in each stroke of her brush—it was almost Gia herself, and not her art, that spoke to him from her landscapes. Fulfilling his promise to his mother to come to Tuscany was beginning to put things into perspective for him.
Nic was still lost in his thoughts when Gia turned and took his hand. They crossed the lawn toward two long tables set up beneath a green bower of verdant grapevines, which shaded the tables from the sun. She led him to the end of the far table where there was a space. A tall woman with dark, curly hair just like Gia’s looked at him with a wide smile on her face.
Gia reached over and kissed the woman’s cheek “Buon giorno, Mamma. This is Nic. He is visiting our valley for a couple of weeks.” She turned back to him. “Nic, this is my Mamma…Sylvia.”
The woman leaned forward and took Nic’s hand and kissed him on both cheeks. Nic smiled back at her.
“Una bella figlia di una bella madre.”
A beautiful daughter from a beautiful mother. Gia’s eyes widened at his charm. “Very smooth,
Nic. Say the same to nonna and you’ll be loved for life.” She pointed to an elderly woman who was dozing in a rocking chair in the corner of the courtyard, oblivious to the hubbub of noise around her.
Nic smiled at her mother. “It is a pleasure to be here. Thank you for letting me join your family lunch, Sylvia.”
“Pfft, Gia’s friends are always welcome. But she never brings any home, do you, bella?” Sylvia waved a perfectly manicured hand. She was a very elegant woman, and Nic watched with interest as she frowned at her daughter.
“Gia, where is your pretty dress? You know your father prefers to see you in a dress at lunch.”
“I’m sorry, Mamma. They are both in the wash.”
Her mother pursed her lips. “If you would move back home to the village, you wouldn’t have to worry. I could do your laundry for you.”
Gia simply smiled and didn’t reply.
They settled at the table and introductions were made to a bevy of cousins, aunts, uncles, and finally to Gia’s sister, Louisa, who arrived late with a man in tow.
Gia leaned across to Nic. “That’s good. That will take at least half of the interest away from you.”
Nic leaned in and inhaled her strawberry fragrance. “Your family is”—he’d been going to say wonderful but Gia interrupted him.
“Overpowering, noisy, boisterous, and confident.”
Nic laughed and looked up as Gia’s father approached him.
“Gia! Welcome home.” He enfolded Gia in a bear hug and Nic smiled. It was as though Gia had been away for years and didn’t work with her father each night. He looked around. Her brother didn’t appear to be here yet.
Nic stood and held out his hand. “Mauro. It is good to see you again.”
Gia’s father shook his head and then beckoned him to follow. “Come. We have some fine wine over here.” When Gia stood to follow them, Mauro waved her away—rather rudely, Nic thought.
“Stay with the women, Gia. Your cousin has a new baby.” He beamed at the woman who was sitting across the table from Gia holding a small baby.
Nic frowned and before he could say he preferred to stay with Gia, she shrugged. “Off you go, Nic. I am sure Papa wants to hear all about my show.” He was sure her smile was forced, but she turned away to speak to her cousin. It was as though she was well used to being dismissed. No wonder she preferred to live alone. Nic followed Mauro over to the bar and watched as he deftly uncorked a bottle of red wine.
Gia’s father put the bottle on the tiled bar and reached for two glasses hanging from a shelf to the side. “So Gia tells me you work at Carrara?”
Nic nodded and tried to divert Mauro from the subject of his work. “Yes, I live up there, but I also try to spend some time in Florence where my brother lives.” He gestured to the crowd of people filling the garden. “But my family is small; and we rarely get together like this. I am very envious.”
Mauro beamed at him. “Family and tradition is the most important thing there is. We all get together at least once a month.”
Nic nodded and accepted the glass of wine that Mauro handed him. “About the only time our extended family sees each other is at funerals.” No matter how overbearing and smothering they might be, he was envious of Gia’s family. The death of his mother had destroyed their family unit and his relationship with his father. Although he and Antonio saw each other often, it was primarily business driven. Nic wondered what it would be like to be a part of a family like this as an adult. As children, he and Antonio had been loved by their parents and had had a wonderful childhood. A sense of loss filled him as he looked around at the children running around on the lush, green lawn, the older people nodding asleep in their chairs in the corner, and the young mothers nursing their babies on their laps. The conversations were loud but happiness pervaded the whole terrace. The problem was it was an illusion. So tenuous. People died and the grief from their loss had more impact than family days like this.
Mauro raised his glass. “Perhaps you may learn from your visit to our simple village and help your family try to get together more.”
Nic nodded. “Perhaps.”
Looks like I’ve just gone up a notch in his estimation. Gaining Mauro’s respect might make it easier to broach the subject of Gia’s exhibition.
“So you work for the Baldinis?” Mauro finished his own wine and poured another glass. Nic sipped his slowly as Gia’s father stared at him.
Now they were getting into dangerous territory. When Gia found out he was a Baldini, Nic wanted it to come from him, not from anyone else.
He nodded again. “Yes, I work for the Baldinis.” Technically that was the truth, but discomfort settled in his chest. Not being completely truthful did not sit well with Nic. He believed in integrity in his business dealings, and never before in his personal life had he lied about anything.
“And you are interested in art, too?” Mauro’s wide forehead creased into a frown as if he couldn’t understand. Nic paused as unfamiliar nerves skittered through him as the inquisition continued. Dio, don’t tell me my cover is blown. “Yes, I have always been interested in art. Your daughter is very talented.” Nic put his wine down on the bar. “I am very excited about helping Gia with an exhibition. She will do very well.”
Mauro waved his hand dismissively. “Pfft. If it makes her happy, I suppose I can agree to this little show.”
Nic bit back the angry words that rose in this throat. He hadn’t come here to get her father’s permission, but he didn’t want to jeopardize Gia’s relationship with him, either. He sipped at his wine again, nodded, and changed the subject. Soon he was involved in a spirited discussion with Mauro about the shrinking Italian economy and the current recession.
Mauro thumped his glass onto the wooden bench beside them as he made a point.
“Yes, exactly,” Nic agreed. “No one expected the poor growth, and it does not bode well for the prime minister. I keep a close eye on the stock market.”
“Nic?”
Nic hadn’t noticed Gia approach, and he wondered how long she had been listening to their conversation. A frown creased her brow. As he watched, she lifted one hand and smoothed down her wrinkled T-shirt. There was a smudge of something white near her right breast and he tried not to stare at it.
She shrugged. “It’s baby vomit.”
Mauro grinned at Gia. “So you cuddled the new bambino. Getting clucky, cara? Your Mamma already had Gabriel and Louisa when she was your age.”
Gia shot a wry glance at Nic and her voice was dutiful. “Yes, Papa. I cuddled the baby. I came over to tell you Mamma has put the food out. It is time to eat.”
They moved back to the table, and Nic surveyed the spread of food in front of them. There was enough to feed at least twice the number here. The conversation washed around them, babies cried, and children squabbled at their feet. The noisier the gathering became, the more Gia seemed to withdraw into herself. Nic tried to engage her in conversation, but she just answered in monosyllables.
Eventually, he gave up and focused on his meal, wondering how much longer they would have to stay. He hated seeing Gia look so miserable.
Her father walked around filling up the glasses of the guests with the heady wine. Nic put his hand over his glass.
“No more, thank you. I am driving.” Mauro shrugged and moved to the cousin on the other side of Gia. “And none for our little Gia. She cannot handle her wine.”
…
Papa’s comment was the last straw for Gia. Nic had settled in all too well with her family, and when she had gone over to tell them the food was served, his conversation with her father had surprised her. The effect of the economy on business models? Where did that come from? Why the hell would Nic be trying to impress Papa?
Gia’s eyes narrowed. She had stood behind Nic listening to him talk to her father about the economy and stocks and shares. Maybe she was being naïve, but Nic’s depth of knowledge of the economy was not what she would have expected from a quarry worker…or a
n artist.
A deep ache began in Gia’s chest, and she tried to pull herself out of this mood that her family always put her in. She simply didn’t fit in and she never had. She tried her best to be what Papa wanted, but it just didn’t work. And now here was her new friend and mentor—if you could call Nic that—agreeing with every word her father said, and apparently trying to impress him. Just someone else to tell fragile little Gia what to do. Anger began a slow burn in her stomach, but it was directed at herself more than Nic. She had no one to blame for the way she was. If she wanted to be stronger and stand up for herself, she was the only one who could do it. For too long, she had been happy to fit in with what everyone else wanted.
As soon as the dessert was served, they would be able to leave without causing too much comment. The time dragged and despite Nic trying to get her to talk, Gia’s mood sank lower. Finally the children left the table to run on the grass again, the babies were carried inside for their afternoon nap, and the women moved to clear the tables. Gia leaned over to Nic who was involved in an animated conversation with Louisa’s new man.
“Are you ready to leave?”
The look of relief that crossed his face pleased her. Maybe he’d been trying hard to fit in for her sake.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Gia stood to say good-bye to Louisa. “I’ll see you next week.” Louisa only worked in the restaurant when there were many bookings.
Nic followed Gia to the other table where her parents were sitting.
Mauro stood and grasped Nic’s hand. “It was good to talk to you. Please come again.”
On their way to the car, Gabriel passed them, hurrying down the path toward the house. They stopped, and he kissed Gia’s cheek.
“You’re late.” Her mood lifted. Gabriel’s shirt was hanging from his jeans and there was a high flush on his cheeks. She bit back a grin. He looked like he’d been visiting his latest girlfriend. Good, it might take some of Papa’s bambino pressure off her.
